


building blocks

by kirargent



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Healthy Relationships, Post-Canon, Raven Reyes-centric, Raven-centric, Winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-09 21:12:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5555522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirargent/pseuds/kirargent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow suffocates the earth, and it damn near suffocates Raven, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	building blocks

**Author's Note:**

  * For [semele](https://archiveofourown.org/users/semele/gifts).



> I needed inspo, and [ravenbells](http://ravenbells.tumblr.com) suggested: how about something in the 'verse in which the Delinquents have that separate village, and after some years, they decide to build themselves a common hall / dining room / a warm place where people can hang out together in the winter and not sit alone in their dwellings?

Really, they've built the practice before they build the physical structure. Without discussing it, they convene in the clearing around which their dwellings form a raggedy circle.

In the summers, this is good. Hot evening air is soft on lots of bare skin, the sun providing ever more reddish light until the hour is very late. On Raven's favorite nights, Miller and Harper will coax alive a grand fire, and Monty will season Octavia's caught meat with a concoction of the summer herbs he's freshly harvested, and they all eat until their sides ache.

It's a nice enough gathering place in the spring, as well, although they often find themselves dripping with rain as they chatter, and in the fall, the intensifying cold at night doesn't stop them from donning extra layers and spending the late evening cross-legged on tree stump stools to discuss the bright spots in their days of work.

 

Winter, though.

If you ask Raven, there are three words to describe winter: lonely, cold, and miserable.

Snow suffocates the earth, and it damn near suffocates Raven, too. It is far too cold to stand outside a spare second longer than necessary; everyone here—the delinquents who broke from Camp Jaha three years ago—keeps huddled in their respective living quarters.

Thus, over the past years, Raven has taken to dropping in on random unsuspecting companions for the evening, afternoon—whenever she's without something to occupy herself.

  

 

Though Raven's initial impression of Octavia was that she was exorbitantly social, she's never been the chatty type, and she's only grown more seldom-spoken in the recent years. Raven drags herself up a stool. Octavia eyes her thoughtfully, then shrugs, and tosses her a knife and a sharpening block.

They are silent, working with their hands, together in the sparsely decorated space that belongs to Octavia. It is better than being alone.

 

  

Monty, Raven learns, can be depended upon to have a supply of crudely-brewed liquor stashed somewhere in his home at all times.

He is also an enjoyable conversation partner, though she has to get him just the right amount of drunk for him to open up without overdoing it and sending him into dismayed speeches about Jasper, who opted not to join them here when they left. He knows a lot about mechanics, and watches her with something like awe shining on his face when she imparts some new wisdom. She spends a lot of time in Monty's cabin.

 

 

Nathan opens his door only a crack for her when she bangs on it with the heel of her palm. He narrows his eyes at her.

“What,” he says.

She raises an eyebrow. “Can I come in?”

Nathan can be bribed into spending time with her if she provides a bottle of Monty's liquor. He's not bad company: he can be counted on to scowl at the appropriate times, and to threaten violence when he can tell someone has set Raven off.

She scraps together a wooden box for him the second year, scrounges up a small padlock. The box is moonshine bottle-sized. He offers to clear his furniture to the sides of the main room and mock fight with her, and he doesn't say anything when her shitty leg gives out, just waits for her to get up and swings solidly at her side. She might fill more of her hours with his company, if she could get her hands on more alcohol.

 

 

Harper is soft, sweet, and has a fire in her gut that flares up behind her eyes if she thinks something's endangering her friends.

She and Raven scrape moss from potential firewood and set both piles to dry, carve out the centers of pre-chopped slices of tree trunks to replace the metal bowls that have become dented with too much use, and then she takes down a hanging fur from the wall and they throw knives at a neatly painted target until Raven's shoulder aches and Harper kicks her out so she can get some sleep.

Harper is nice to spend time with. Doesn't talk much, but doesn't need to. Raven's glad she didn't stay behind.

 

  

There is also Bellamy. Bellamy's company is... stimulating, for certain.

She doesn't want to class it as “good,” because he's stubborn-headed and sarcastic and knows her just well enough to really get under her skin—but she can't call his company “bad,” either, because his long fingers are gentle when he wraps her knuckles in cloth after she's impulsively punched a wall, and because he lets her rant about the adults, about Clarke Griffin, without judging her, and because his soft smile before she leaves makes her feel like there's a warm haven inside her chest that the winter cold can't quite touch.

 

It is Bellamy who tells her, as he's rubbing her hands between a fire-heated cloth before she loses a fingertip to frostbite, “We should build a new place. A—” His mouth twists. “Community hall, or something.”

She makes a face at him, raising her eyebrows to convey that this is _a stupid idea, Blake_.

He shakes his head. “Look, call it whatever you want, but we could use a new building. Put up a few long tables. Keep it warm in the winter. Maybe have a fire pit. Somewhere to... hang out. Even when the weather's hell.”

Raven looks at him.

He always has fewer freckles in the winter. His warm brown eyes are lowered, watching his work as he cares for her hands because she refused to return to the safe warmth of her dwelling when she should have, staying out in the bitter, biting cold instead. His eyelashes are long, too pretty for a boy shaped to be so rough.

A community hall.

She keeps looking at him, narrowing her eyes slightly.

Bellamy is, she has been realizing, maybe not as rough as the persona he assumes when everyone looks to him to be a warrior king.

“A place to 'hang out'?” she asks, voice still derisive.

He is unfazed, used to her sharp edges. He lifts one shoulder. “Like I said. Whatever you wanna call it.”

What he doesn't say is: _It's a way to keep gathering even in winter_. What he doesn't say is: _Maybe this way you won't have to avoid your empty, lonely cabin so long that you nearly freeze your damn fingers off_.

Raven chews the inside of her lip. “We can't start until the snow clears,” she points out.

“We can start cutting wood as soon as it's spring,” Bellamy offers. “It's not like we'll really need the place till next winter, anyway.”

Raven looks at him thoughtfully.

She pulls her hands from between his and the warm cloth. His eyes lift to hers, curious; she places a hand on either side of his jaw, flat-palmed, meeting his gaze seriously.

She has to lean up on her toes to press her mouth against his. Considering this, she figures it's probably a good thing that they're building this damn hall of his, so that she won't freeze her toes off when clearly, she needs them.

Bellamy's large hands press to the small of her back, pulling her in closer to his warm, worn-lean body, and she lets her practical thoughts disperse like the snowflakes outside borne on a tumbling wind.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr, too, if you'd like](http://kirargent.tumblr.com/post/136079524756/for-ravenbell-prompts-how-about-something-in-the)


End file.
